Until now, I barely paid her any mind, a feat considering that the body-hugging minidress she’s wearing shows off more than a decent amount of skin. Her blonde hair is styled into a blunt bob, where every single strand is smoothed into a straight line, the ends skimming the edge of her thick gold choker necklace. And that necklace… Wow! Several rows of sparkling diamonds around a big red rock. A ruby, most likely. It’s amazing her neck can support the weight.
Her painted-on dress certainly accentuates her perfectly toned body, and her sky-high heels make her already long legs look like they go on for miles. Even next to her husband, she seems tall. Sophisticated. Splendid. The Ruffos really do appear to be a well-suited couple. Which makes me wonder about the rumors that have continuously plagued their marriage.
“I see she chose to cover her ass this time. That’s a first,” Rina continues in a low voice. “I’ve always wondered how those two ended up together. They’ve been married for years, but I’ve never seen them exchange even the slightest affection with each other. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them touch.”
“Maybe Mr. Ruffo is just not into public displays? I’m sure he’s in love with her, since they’re still together.”
“Could be. And yet, she cheats on him every chance she gets, and the poor guy doesn’t have a clue.”
I squint, assessing Filippa Ruffo once more. She is a remarkably beautiful woman, so it’s not surprising that she’d attract the attention of other men. Considering that most CosaNostra marriages are arranged, it’s also not a surprise that infidelity is prolific. However, regardless of how common such things may be, those involved always take great pains to conceal their affairs, as far as I can tell. Especially if it’s the woman who’s stepping out. Mr. Ruffo must be utterly blinded by love for his wife if he hasn’t noticed her cheating.
My gaze shifts back to Adriano Ruffo, who is now engaged in a conversation with Don Spada. I can’t help but notice the differences between the two men. Although both are exceptionally tall, appearing to be of nearly identical height, I do think Mr. Ruffo may have an inch on the don. Likewise, both men are wearing beautifully tailored suits, not that the fancy garb could hide the breadth of their shoulders or their barrel-chested physiques. However, that’s where the similarities end.
While the don’s dark hair is super short, slowly growing out from being shaved off completely, Mr. Ruffo is sporting a thick head of inky-black strands, frosted with a bit of gray here and there. The cut is classic, but with a modern edge, where the layers are swept back, and the ends brush his shirt collar at his nape.
The two men look like they come from two completely different worlds, and the don’s abundance of visible ink compared to Mr. Ruffo’s clean slate only heightens that effect. I guess they actually do—one is a recently released convicted killer, while the other is a billionaire, focused solely on his globally known transport business. From what I’ve gathered,la Famigliais using Mr. Ruffo’s trucks to move drugs, and that’s really the only thing that ties him to organized crime. They must have threatened or maybe blackmailed him into that arrangement. I’m certain he never welcomed it and can’t be happy about being forced into this life.
“How did someone like Mr. Ruffo get tangled up with Cosa Nostra?” I mumble. “He seems so…normal.” And how could his wife cheat on him? He’s probably the only decent man in the whole room. And the hottest.For Pete’s sake, Iris, snap out of it! You’re starting to drool.
Rina leans in even closer. “Well, from what I’ve heard—”
“What the hell are you two doing?” Capo Brio’s hiss makes both of us spin around.
His looming shadow falls over our faces as he slashes Rina and me with his glare.
“Ah… Um…” I stammer.
“Iris’s bra strap came undone,” Rina exclaims. “I was just helping her to—”
“Get your asses to the kitchen! Now!” He shoos us away before storming off to his guests.
We all but run out of the banquet hall and across the foyer to get into the corridor that leads to the kitchen. Just as we’re about to slip into the hidden passages used by staff, a woman in a long royal-blue dress rounds the corner and heads in our direction.
Crap!I look down, hoping she won’t notice me, and pick up my pace.
“Why the fuck are you here?” Lucrezia’s sneer slams into me like a bucket of cold sludge.
I swallow and glance up, meeting a pair of light-brown eyes, the shade identical to mine. Our father’s eyes.
“Ms. Zara mentioned Capo Brio needed additional servers at the party,” I say. “I was available.”
“Of course you were,” my half sister spits out. “You probably couldn’t resist coming, knowing I’d be here.”
“It had nothing to do with you, Lucrezia.”
“That’s Ms. Saccone to you! You’d better remember that, you worthless scrap.” With a swift heave from below, she flips up the tray in my hands, sending the whole kit and caboodle into my chest. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near the banquet hall for the rest of the night.”
Her brisk steps echo down the hall as she leaves, and each crisp click feels like a dagger’s twist in my back. Slowly, I balance the tray, trying to keep the crystal stemware from tumbling to the floor, then glance at my uniform, where a large wet stain is rapidly spreading across my front.
“Iris?” Rina takes my forearm. “What just happened? Are you— Oh, no.”
“Do you think dry cleaning will get this out?” I whimper, fighting the stinging pressure behind my eyes. At the moment, I can’t even think about how much the dry cleaning bill will be, or where I’ll find the time to get it done before I’m required to return the uniform.
“Of course. We just need to get it soaked right away to stop the stains from setting in. Let’s get you changed.” Rina takes the tray from my shaking hands. “Who the hell was that bitch, and why was she barking at you?”
“Capo Brio’s stepdaughter,” I mumble. “Who happens to be related to me.”
“What?”
